[
    {
        "id": 206387,
        "series_id": 26,
        "series_slug": "histsyn-rashkb-journal-engine",
        "series_title": "RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊",
        "series_use_hku_proxy": false,
        "document_key": "RAS-1971",
        "page_number": 204,
        "title": "RAS-1971",
        "content_text": "178\n\nREV. JAMES LEGGE\n\nI once witnessed from my house in D'Aguilar Street an engagement between nearly a hundred Chinese coolies on each side, on the ground now occupied by the Club-house. Bamboo on bamboo, and bamboo on skull, resounded pretty equally, until the parties were obliged to give up from exhaustion. I thought that nothing wilder or better-sustained had ever been seen at Donnybrook Fair.\n\nTaking occasion to speak here on the subject of violent crime in the Colony, and affecting it, I would distinguish two eras;— that of violent burglary, and that of piracy. Not that there were not piracies in the earlier time, and burglaries in the later; but the one and the other preponderated in the two eras, and may be considered to characterize them. The former may be said to have continued down to the beginning of 1856, when a daring attack was made on several native shops at East Point. For several years, however, before that, it had been declining, owing mainly to the increasing numbers and greater vigour of the police force.\n\nThese robberies were at first conducted with an astonishing audacity. In January, 1844, to give only one instance, what is now Mr. De Souza's printing office was occupied by Mrs. White, the wife of one of the present members for Brighton, who was himself in Shanghai at the time. He was one of the early notabilities of the Colony, and founded the Friend of China, which was published here and in Shanghai for many years by very different hands. Well on the night of the 23rd January, the bungalow was attacked by an armed band of about 30 individuals. Their object was plunder; and without attempting any violence to Mrs. White or a young lady who was staying with her, they proceeded systematically to accomplish their purpose.\n\nA little down the hill were the head-quarters of a Madras regiment of which I have spoken. The young lady tripped down, and gave the alarm there, and soon a party of sepoys was led up to the scene by an officer; but the brigands stood one discharge of their muskets, and, it was said, did not flee till the ramrods were ringing in the barrels for a second, one of their number being left bleeding to death on the floor.\n\nWhen burglary on this scale could no longer be attempted with success or safety, bands of robbers attempted to carry out their attempts by tunneling from the large drains under the",
        "txt_file_path": "txt/dfo323lmgvd/RAS-1971.txt",
        "external_url": "https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/z029vt43g",
        "rank": 0
    },
    {
        "id": 206524,
        "series_id": 26,
        "series_slug": "histsyn-rashkb-journal-engine",
        "series_title": "RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊",
        "series_use_hku_proxy": false,
        "document_key": "RAS-1972",
        "page_number": 72,
        "title": "RAS-1972",
        "content_text": "66\n\nHENRY JAMES LETHBRIDGE\n\nIn 1889 Lockhart had married Edith Louise Rider Hancock, second daughter of Alfred Hancock,28 a Hong Kong bill and bullion broker, and he and his wife and two children moved in 1902 to their new home, Government House, at Ma-t'ou village, now renamed Port Edward. Ma-t'ou village had been originally the port of the old walled city of Weihaiwei29 and Government House was situated on a slight eminence overlooking Ma-t'ou village and divided from it only by an orchard planted by a Kew expert; there was not a fence anywhere. Port Edward was the centre of administration and contained the Government offices and the buildings occupied, until 1906, by the officers and men of the 1st Chinese Regiment of Infantry.30 But Port Edward was always very much of a 'pocket' capital, with only a handful of resident Europeans, mostly civil servants, and a few hundred Chinese merchants, craftsmen and fishermen.\n\nEqually the European community in Weihaiwei was always sparse, consisting of a few officials, merchants, and missionaries. With two or three exceptions all the Europeans resided on the small island of Liukung, where the native population was to a great extent drawn from the south-eastern provinces of China and from Japan. Liukung was only two-and-a-quarter miles long with a maximum breadth of seven-eighths of a mile but it became the headquarters of the permanent naval establishment and the site for the naval canteen (formerly a picturesque Chinese official yamên), the United Services Club, bungalows for summer visitors, a large hotel, and the offices of a few shipping firms. The several streets of shops were occupied mostly by Cantonese and Japanese.\n\n+\n\nIn 1903 there were only fourteen Europeans involved in the administration of Weihaiwei: the Civil Commissioner, the Secretary to Government, who also acted as magistrate, a financial assistant, three inspectors of police, two medical officers, one civil engineer, one foreman of works, two corporals, and two sappers of the Royal Engineers. The size of the establishment did not increase markedly over time, though an additional magistrate was procured. The Territory was divided by 1910 into two divisions, North and South. The North Division contained only nine of the twenty-six districts and was much smaller in both area and population than the South but it included the island of Liukung, where a small naval dockyard had been constructed, and Port Edward. It was under",
        "txt_file_path": "txt/dfo323lmgvd/RAS-1972.txt",
        "external_url": "https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/gm80qf99h",
        "rank": 0
    },
    {
        "id": 208008,
        "series_id": 26,
        "series_slug": "histsyn-rashkb-journal-engine",
        "series_title": "RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊",
        "series_use_hku_proxy": false,
        "document_key": "RAS-1977",
        "page_number": 47,
        "title": "RAS-1977",
        "content_text": "STANLEY INTERNMENT CAMP, HONG KONG 1942-1945\n\n31\n\nAfter 17 days in appallingly overcrowded, filthy conditions with very poor food, those in these hotels were taken by boat from the western waterfront, around past Aberdeen and Repulse Bay, to Stanley,\n\nIt is not known exactly why the Japanese chose Stanley as the site, as others were suggested, e.g. the Peak, the University and La Salle College, Kowloon, but probably it was chosen because of its isolation and the buildings for housing which were there. The camp area consisted of the grounds of St. Stephen's College and the grounds of Stanley Prison, excluding the prison itself.\n\nAt St. Stephen's College were a number of buildings including classrooms, an assembly hall and bungalows for the teachers. Several hundred internees eventually lived at St. Stephen's, more than twenty occupying bungalows built for one family, and many more in science laboratories living between partitions of sacking and old blankets. In August 1942, a number of nurses who had been allowed to remain at work at St. Theresa's Hospital, Kowloon, were made to move to Stanley. They joined other nurses and VADs (Volunteer Aid Detachment) women in a classroom block. On their way to camp, the buses carrying them stopped in central and they were addressed by a Japanese officer who said:\n\nYou are now going to Stanley Internment Camp. All things there will be good - food will be plentiful, conditions will be pleasant. I hope you appreciate this kindness from the Imperial Japanese Army.\n\nSeveral hundred internees lived at St. Stephen's, but the majority lived on the prison grounds. Looking at the map, you will see a building marked 'Dutch'. In this building lived the Dutch, Belgian and later Norwegian internees. Next to it was the Prison Officers' Club, used as a canteen, kindergarten, Catholic church and recreation centre during internment.\n\nLooking further at the map, you see two main divisions of quarters - the Warders' Quarters and Indian Quarters. The first, the Warders' Quarters, were for European warders and were large flats of several rooms; designed for one family, an average of thirty internees lived in each during internment. The Indian Quarters had housed Indian prison guards; they consisted of small flats consisting of two 14 x 10' rooms with a small verandah with a kitchen,",
        "txt_file_path": "txt/dfo323lmgvd/RAS-1977.txt",
        "external_url": "https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/np198x23n",
        "rank": 0
    },
    {
        "id": 208648,
        "series_id": 26,
        "series_slug": "histsyn-rashkb-journal-engine",
        "series_title": "RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊",
        "series_use_hku_proxy": false,
        "document_key": "RAS-1979",
        "page_number": 105,
        "title": "RAS-1979",
        "content_text": "78\n\nREYS. J. SMITH AND WM. DOWNS\n\nA word about our quarters may now be in order. Within the Camp confines are the Hong Kong Prison Warders' apartments, consisting of some seven blocks of buildings, each building having about six flats or apartments, of three living rooms each, plus a tiny kitchen and pantry and bath. Across the road, there is St. Stephen's College, with two main buildings and a few small bungalows. Down in the valley near the seashore are about six blocks of flats formerly occupied by the Indian Prison guards and their families. Also a block of apartments for bachelor Warders, a Prison Officers' club and another building occupied by the Indians, which is now Tweed Bay Hospital for Camp use. Likewise a small leprosarium, now inhabited by some English doctors. The Americans are housed in three separate blocks of the Warders' apartments and the British are in the other buildings, except that the Americans also have the former Prison Officers' Club, the main hall of which is used for church services, for recreation and for plays and songfests. The camp is situated on a peninsula jutting out between Tytam and Stanley Bays, and we have a splendid view of the sea on three sides. During hostilities, of course, all the buildings were looted and there remain only odd pieces of furniture here and there. The Japanese have provided some camp cots, but these are far from enough to supply the actual need, and as a result, a great many of the internees, men, women and children, are living in crowded quarters with no beds, chairs or tables. They sleep on the floor, which, in the Indian Quarters and in some parts of St. Stephen's College, is cement. The Americans, having been brought to Camp rather early, were given quarters having at least camp cots and a few articles of furniture. Many internees have only what they could bring in as hand luggage, and some have only what they were wearing at the time. As soon as the doctors and nurses arrived, one building was set apart as a hospital and a few iron cots and camp cots secured. The emergency operating table is an old door on two saw horses, and the stock of medicines is practically nil. We have been given no cooking utensils or supplies of any sort, except our daily rations of rice, a little meat and vegetables, and many are eating their food out of tin cans and whatever they have managed to pick up.\n\nAlready many cases of dysentery are appearing, and Tweed Bay Hospital is filling up. It has, I should say, about sixty or eighty beds. Father Reardon seems to be improving.\n\nT\n\nPage 105\n\nPage 106",
        "txt_file_path": "txt/dfo323lmgvd/RAS-1979.txt",
        "external_url": "https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/2801w5938",
        "rank": 0
    },
    {
        "id": 212175,
        "series_id": 26,
        "series_slug": "histsyn-rashkb-journal-engine",
        "series_title": "RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊",
        "series_use_hku_proxy": false,
        "document_key": "RAS-1990",
        "page_number": 117,
        "title": "RAS-1990",
        "content_text": "94\n\ncity, which is some eleven miles in circumference; that was before it was included in the prohibited areas. Now concrete machine-gun loopholes peered at you from various angles; and towards the great gate, where the wall made its nearest approach to the Yangtze, the fortifications were believed to be particularly heavy and well provided with deep dugouts to serve as battle headquarters in time of need. We heard that even the German officers, who advised on how these concrete emplacements should be constructed, were not allowed to know the actual details of their location, and we used to think how ungrateful and suspicious it was of the Chinese to act thus. However, subsequent events have surely justified the Chinese attitude.\n\nNear the gate, at intervals, the older houses of the foreign business community, sited along Socony ridge, stare out over the long squat wall of the city at the Yangtze, and the intervening mile of pond, field and shack: but the last house turns its back to the river, straddling a narrow spur, an offshoot from the main ridge. Set in a pattern of mellow brick, our windows faced Nanking and Purple Mountain beyond. From the small lawn in front we could look down on the familiar landmarks of the city, the hillock of the Northern temple, the ancient Drum Tower, the hard concrete lines of the sumptuous International Club, and the salmon-pink walls of the New Metropolitan Hotel, so soon to be painted a hideous black. From the verandah of this house we were to watch the flash and smoke of the bursting bombs of many an air raid.\n\nThis August the discussion of the trivialities of a daily routine had continued against a background of mounting tension. How exercised we were to find a method of circumventing a malignant crack through which the water of our small swimming pool sought to escape down the hill! At the bridge tables of the Bungalow Club, at dinner parties, dancing at the International Club, amidst the humdrum of everyday life, there was a mystery of 'phone calls, a whispered exchange of latest information, the question of increasing urgency **Is it war?**\n\nAlready in July members of the various embassies had begun to return from the summer seaside resorts in the north, where the storm was brewing, following the Marco Polo Bridge incident on July 7th; and a trickle of refugees came in from Tsinanfu. But in Nanking the cinemas remained open, the tennis tournament continued, and I remember an entertainment which was given towards the end of the month to the twenty-four Chinese students, who had been",
        "txt_file_path": "txt/dfo323lmgvd/RAS-1990.txt",
        "external_url": "https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/d79206299",
        "rank": 0
    },
    {
        "id": 212180,
        "series_id": 26,
        "series_slug": "histsyn-rashkb-journal-engine",
        "series_title": "RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊",
        "series_use_hku_proxy": false,
        "document_key": "RAS-1990",
        "page_number": 122,
        "title": "RAS-1990",
        "content_text": "99\n\nresidents in 1932, under conditions quite similar, the efforts of which they were capable. It was thought that at the best the Chinese government would be compelled to sue for terms within three or four months: nor did the foreign residents of Shanghai appear to feel much concern at the prospect of such an issue; the years of pin-pricking told. Despite the precedents recently set in Manchuria, where the Japanese had driven out foreign enterprise, there were many who really believed that the Japanese would “clean up the Chinese mess”, as they called it, and usher in a beautiful era when all obstructions would be removed to a profitable trade untrammelled by notions about \"unequal treatment\".\n\nOn my return I found Nanking settling down to war. Most of the foreign ladies had left by steamer for ports upriver, the International Club band was dispersed, the cinemas were closed, the leak in our swimming pool got worse, coupons were required for petrol, and the irreplenishable stock of liquid refreshment at the Bungalow Club diminished at an alarming rate.\n\nThere were particularly heavy air raids on the 19th and 20th of September, and so it was with some astonishment on the evening of the 20th that we heard over the wireless Admiral Hasegawa's warning to foreign residents of Nanking to move out because,\n\n\"the Japanese Naval Air Force may after noon on September 21st have to resort to such offensive measures as bombing and otherwise upon the Chinese forces, as well as all the establishments pertaining to their military operations and otherwise around Nanking.\"\n\nHe spoke after a month of bombing as though the bombing had not yet commenced. Japan waved the big stick with singular effect. During the night of the 20th there was a frenzy of packing and on the morning of the 21st the remaining foreign ladies left by steamer, and several offices closed down and transferred themselves to Wuhu. The men who were staying behind made arrangements to \"cruise\" for the day. The various embassy staffs boarded their respective gunboats; and many civilians hoarded the S.S. \"Whangpoo\" which promptly at 11 a.m. took the Butterfield hulk in tow and steamed away, while our small party had the use of a launch on which we crossed over to the far side of the Yangtze to anchor a couple of",
        "txt_file_path": "txt/dfo323lmgvd/RAS-1990.txt",
        "external_url": "https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/d79206299",
        "rank": 0
    },
    {
        "id": 212202,
        "series_id": 26,
        "series_slug": "histsyn-rashkb-journal-engine",
        "series_title": "RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊",
        "series_use_hku_proxy": false,
        "document_key": "RAS-1990",
        "page_number": 144,
        "title": "RAS-1990",
        "content_text": "121\n\nday to Changsha. The capital of Hunan, the province with a long history of anti-foreign fanaticism, is situated on the Siang river, which flows down to the Yangtze above Hankow. In summer the middle-river steamers come up as far as Changsha, but in winter the level over the sand flats where the river passes through the Tung Ting lake, near its mouth, is so shallow that even the specially designed river gunboats cannot pass. One British gunboat generally wintered at Changsha.\n\nThere was no concession, and in the course of time the foreign community had congregated on a long sand bar, which made an island in the river, opposite the city. The few bungalows were grouped round the Club. It was a simple life with tennis and walks for relaxation. Normally Changsha connected with the outer world by ship through Shanghai, but now for over a year that channel had been closed by the war and the number of the foreign community, usually not more than a couple of dozen, was reduced. It did, however, include two British tank officers, loaned to the Chinese army, whom I had last seen in Nanking. They now depended for their supplies on the new railway to Hongkong. I left my car here and went on to Hankow by train.\n\nIt was nearly twenty years since I had last been in Hankow, years crowded with change, not only material but also intellectual. Hither junks from the far north-west of China, in Shensi Province, came down the Han river. From here they could sail a leg up the Yangtze, and proceed along the Siang river, until their mast-tops showed a view towards Kweilin. To the west, through the famous gorges, the small steamers fought the current to Chungking 700 miles distant; and 600 miles downriver, past Kiu Kiang, Wuhu, and Nanking, lay Shanghai and the sea. The railway in normal times ran north-east to Peking and south to Canton and Hongkong. On the opposite bank, a kilometre away, the provincial capital, Wuchang, showed; larger than Hankow and, across the Han, where that river made an angle with the Yangtze, the industrial town of Hanyang belched its smoke. Of the Concessions along the water front, only the French retained its status. The British Concession had been returned at the time of the Chen-O'Malley negotiations ten years previously; the German and Russian Concessions had reverted to China after the Great War, and the Japanese Concession had been evacuated soon after the Lukouchiao (Marco Polo Bridge) incident.",
        "txt_file_path": "txt/dfo323lmgvd/RAS-1990.txt",
        "external_url": "https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/d79206299",
        "rank": 0
    },
    {
        "id": 216047,
        "series_id": 26,
        "series_slug": "histsyn-rashkb-journal-engine",
        "series_title": "RASHKB Journal 皇家亞洲學會香港分會學刊",
        "series_use_hku_proxy": false,
        "document_key": "RAS-2002",
        "page_number": 346,
        "title": "RAS-2002",
        "content_text": "280\n\nfood and shelter with money he collected from foreigners. He always wore straw sandals, Chinese clothes and cap, and had a strong Chinese complex. The local Chinese adored him, but not so the missionaries; they detested him, even refusing him food and shelter, or any assistance whatsoever - consoling themselves with the reflection that he was a 'disgrace to the cloth'.\n\nDr. James Hayes has reminded me that he produced a note for Volume 23 of this JHKBRAS[1983] in which he provided extracts from A. H. Rasmussen's China Trader21 describing the westerner's community shooting bungalow in about 1905. Rasmussen was barely twenty when he joined the Chinese Maritime Customs at Zhenjiang, a small, lonely British concession. When first posted there he had been assured by others that Zhenjiang was a very nice and clean Concession, with a good club and excellent shooting. He found this to be a good description of the Concession but not of the native town. During his first four years, two of the original thirty-five Europeans died, two went mad, two cut their throats, and he himself was twice nearly murdered by smugglers. After several years with the Imperial Maritime Customs he was offered a job representing a foreign firm still in Zhenjiang and found himself now one of the upper set. No longer could he walk down the crowded streets of the Concession but must ride in state in his sedan chair, borne by his four chair bearers garbed in his firm's colours. Rasmussen's sanity was saved by the presence of a small shooting bungalow in the countryside near by, looked after by a caretaker. It was about eight miles away on a hill called Wu Chow where he would stay during his off-duty hours either reading or hunting wild boar. Though it was relatively expensive in ammunition and tips for the beaters he was able to lessen the latter by sharing expenses with shooting companions. Rasmussen spent many happy hours scanning the visitors' book finding out more about previous hunting successes and failures. He describes how he relieved his boredom by walking up and down the Bund, three hundred yards there and three hundred back, and for a change he walked along the only cross street to the south gate of the Concession, two hundred yards there and two hundred yards back.\n\nOne of the most lucrative trades around Shanghai and Zhenjiang used to be that of being shot. Foreign merchants often went up creeks in house-boat parties, or wander about the fields in the outskirts, looking for snipe. There were no hedges or game laws and innumerable",
        "txt_file_path": "txt/dfo323lmgvd/RAS-2002.txt",
        "external_url": "https://digitalrepository.lib.hku.hk/catalog/mp4901278",
        "rank": 0
    }
]